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by fictionallemons



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Kissing, Love, M/M, Mortality, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Vehicular Sex, vans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 23:16:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17907563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionallemons/pseuds/fictionallemons
Summary: Ethan and Benji take advantage of alone time in the van after a near miss.





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**Author's Note:**

> An unofficial smutty epilogue to my fic Butterflies, but doesn't take place right after that fic ends. Stands alone.

"Christ, that was close," Benji pants as he swings the van door shut behind him. Ethan slams on the gas and Benji yelps as he's thrown against the rear door. _Damn inertia._ Ethan weaves through the streets of Lisbon as if he was born there. They shouldn't have anyone on their tail, but you can't be too careful. When they're sure they aren't being followed, Ethan pulls the van into the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse near the docks. It's three thirty in the morning, and they've been on the trail of a human trafficking ring for two weeks, but tonight they got the break they needed. In the morning, they'll be off to Ireland to face off with the mastermind of the entire operation and shut it down for good.

But for now, they're battered, and tired, and…alone. Ethan shuts off the engine and then somehow manages to slide through the opening between the cab and the body of the van like an elegant snake. Benji's hunched over, trying to regain some equilibrium after that close call and then the roller coaster ride that is Ethan's driving. Ethan shuffles forward, meeting him, knees to knees. He reaches out and gently touches a cut on Benji's forehead that's crusted with dried blood. Silently, he reaches for the first aid kit, but Benji stills his hand.

"Later," he says, and then they're kissing. Ethan tastes coppery, like blood, but maybe that's Benji just tasting himself on Ethan's lips. It was a near thing; he'd felt the wind of the bullet as it raced passed his head, and it was sheer luck that he'd dodged right when the villain had been aiming left. He's always grateful to have one more day to spend with Ethan, but tonight it feels especially…sacred. They could die, either one of them, at any moment. It might be a sniper or a bomb or a drunk driver or a lightning strike. So when it doesn't happen, when they manage to get through the day in one piece, come back to each other, come together…it doesn't matter if it's in the back of the van or in a plush five-star hotel. Their minutes together are too precious to waste.

Ethan's certainly kissing him as if he takes nothing for granted. His mouth is warm and his tongue spears into Benji's mouth. The sensation goes straight to his cock, which is suddenly, desperately hard. This isn't the time to go slow, the way he likes to. He loves to take his time and take Ethan apart piece by piece, but they rarely have the luxury. He'll take this, too, frantic, intense, all about the pain and pleasure of still being alive, still being able to show each other how much they care.

The back of the van smells like plastic and gun oil. They have precious little room to work with between the computers and the cases of gear, but Ethan's flexible. He rucks Benji's shirt over his head, removes both of their earpieces, and grabs something from an outside pocket of the first aid kit all in record time. Then he's kissing Benji's neck, working his way down to his chest, avoiding a few abrasions, and then Benji's cock twitches as Ethan closes his mouth over a nipple, sucking and flicking with his tongue.

"Fuck, Ethan," he groans, unbuckling his trousers so he can palm himself for a little relief as Ethan works him over.

Ethan lifts his mouth away from Benji's skin long enough to say, "Yeah, I want you to fuck me." Then he's unbuckling his own belt and sliding his pants off, even while kissing his way down Benji's abs. 

Benji marvels for a second over Ethan's ability to do two complicated things at once, and then shouts so loudly it echoes off the van's walls when Ethan's mouth closes over the tip of Benji's cock as it peeks through his boxers. The sight of Ethan's lips stretched around his cock, his hair falling over his forehead, biceps bulging through his tight black t-shirt is the most erotic picture Benji's ever seen.

Ethan is somehow sucking him and opening the packet he grabbed from the kit. It's lube, of course, and suddenly Ethan moans around Benji's cock. Benji knows he's fingering himself, and he needs to see.

He places a firm hand on Ethan's shoulder, squeezes, and Ethan comes off his cock with a wet pop. "Take off your shirt," he growls, and Ethan complies gratifyingly quickly. Then Ethan's naked, so Benji sheds his trousers to match. He takes the packet of lube from Ethan's hand. "Let me."

"No," Ethan says. "I just need you in me." His voice is harsh with need.

Benji's about to ask if he's sure, if he's ready, but then Ethan says, "Please," and Benji's cock leaps and his heart melts and he doesn't say anything at all, just coats his cock with lube and Ethan straddles him. Benji lines himself up, the sensitive head of his cock coming into contact with Ethan's warm body. 

Benji's instinct is always to take this part slow, but Ethan doesn't seem to want slow tonight, because he sinks down with almost punishing force. Suddenly Benji's cock is entirely inside Ethan, squeezed by his tight heat. Benji watches Ethan's face for signs of discomfort, but Ethan's mouth is open on a cry of unabashed pleasure and no— _that's_ the most erotic picture he's ever seen: Ethan Hunt, naked, impaled on Benji's cock, chest heaving, mouth open, gaze locked on Benji's wide open eyes. His cock is standing out, thick and and proud, and Benji wraps one hand around it and tugs. Ethan cries out again, and then he starts to move, using his prodigious thighs to raise himself up and slam himself back down. On each slide Benji can feel Ethan stretched around him, so incredibly tight. He strokes Ethan in time to Ethan's rhythm, and it feels so good, Benji had to snap his hips up to meet Ethan halfway. "That's it," Ethan grits out. "Fuck me."

Benji takes his hand off Ethan's cock and grips him around the waist, guiding him, helping him, relishing every stroke, feeling Ethan from the inside out. Ethan moves to his own cock and there's almost nothing better than watching his arms flex as his jerks himself off while Benji's fucking into him. His eyes are on Ethan's biceps, and that's it, he's going to—

"Ethan, fuck." 

Ethan's hand speeds up and he says, "Come on."

Benji's so close but he needs—"I love you," he gasps. 

Ethan smiles. "I love you, Benji." 

Then Benji's coming, hard, endlessly. Ethan lets out a choked sound and Benji feels the drip of Ethan's come onto his stomach. They come down together, their harsh breathing the only sound in the van. Ethan folds over, pressing all of his weight onto Benji. Benji can take it. He can take anything Ethan wants to give him. Their mouths find each other. Benji whispers endearments against Ethan's lips. They don't take anything for granted. Not tonight. Not ever.


End file.
